


Atmosphere

by helloearthlings



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Immortal Merlin, M/M, Reincarnation, World Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 05:37:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11075130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloearthlings/pseuds/helloearthlings
Summary: The itching had begun weeks ago, just after his eighteenth birthday. After a lifetime of being the boy everyone wished they could be, the son everyone wished they could have, Arthur had begun to feel too big for his own skin. Everything he did, all that he used to enjoy, felt pointless and empty, as if his life meant nothing unless he could find something, someone, some –And then the itching started, telling him to go.And so he did.





	Atmosphere

**Author's Note:**

> I like the general feel/tone of this one quite a bit, though I'm not sure if my intentions with it come across perfectly. Got the idea from reading about the Darien Gap, where this is kind of supposed to be set, but I purposefully kept the location/a lot of information very vague because of the aforementioned feel/tone. Specificity would stop this story from operating the way it does. Hope you like, please leave me a comment if you do!

Arthur drove until he ran out of road.

The skittering gravel path came to an abrupt end as a sprawling jungle loomed out before him, great and green like something out of a fairytale. In the back of his mind, Arthur’s greater reasoning reminded him that the beauty of the forest masked the dangers within it, but Arthur’s greater reasoning had sputtered to a halt along with his car as he pulled his backpack from the front seat.

He left the Jeep there, at the end of the road that seemed like the end of the world, for no ordinary traveler would be foolish enough to go as far as he had, let alone trek alone into one of the most dangerous places in the known world.

Arthur had sent his sister his coordinates yesterday, not knowing where he was headed but having the overwhelming feeling it would be his final chance before he entered the unknown.

Arthur wasn’t exactly sure the events that led him to this point, of abandoning his perfect-on-paper life and putting his life on the line for –

For what he wasn’t sure.

The itching had begun weeks ago, just after his eighteenth birthday. After a lifetime of being the boy everyone wished they could be, the son everyone wished they could have, Arthur had begun to feel too big for his own skin. Everything he did, that he used to enjoy, felt pointless and empty, like his life meant nothing unless he could find something, someone, some –

And then the itching started, telling him to _go go go._

And so he did.

He left his home in the dead of night so his father would never know, leaving his sister to cover for him, which she did – unhappily, but she did. Arthur just told her to say he was leaving for his gap year early, a gap year he had never intended on taking until the itching had told him _you’re meant to be somewhere else._

Arthur’s bones had said _west_ and so that’s where Arthur went, but his heart felt too heavy in New York, so he’d headed across the country, trying to find a place where his soul would quiet itself and feel content.

It hadn’t come, but as he hit the Californian border, his bones sang _south_ and Arthur had always been reasonable, level-headed, logical, but he _knew_ that he wasn’t crazy, that whatever was waiting at the end of this road map in his head would be worth his while.

He’d crossed into Mexico, hoping that he was finally in the right country, but it was not to be, as his heart urged him down through Central America. He’d known logically that the road would run out before he reached South America, that he’d need to fly again, but last night his heart had said _keep going, you’re almost there._

The locals were terrified of this place – there were dangerous men in that jungle, the elements alone could kill you in a day, you’re just a boy, you can’t possibly escape alive –

But today, it became very clear that Arthur wasn’t meant to escape it. Whatever his mind, body, soul was looking for – it was there, in that cloistered rainforest. He would find himself there.

If he didn’t – if this was all an insane dream – if Arthur really wasn’t meant for more than Oxford and law school and pleasing his father – then he would probably die.

But Arthur didn’t think he was crazy.

He pushed the doubts in to the back of his mind as he hiked, the pack he’d bought yesterday heavy on his back, but he was used to endurance training from all of the sports teams his father had insisted he be a part of from the time he could walk.

The rainforest was as beautiful as Arthur knew it would be, but the noises of the creatures and the flowing creek and the swaying trees just barely registered as a picture became clearer in Arthur’s mind.

A camp. A camp, a camp made up of those dangerous men he was warned about, was nearby. But Arthur couldn’t avoid it – he had to go _to_ it.

Redemption or certain death.

Those were the two options waiting for him.

Arthur thought about turning around, just for a split-second. He’d thought for weeks before he’d left London about how insane this would sound out loud, but his entire body seemed to thrum with this intense need, this steady promise that everything would be alright if he could just find _him._

Him.

Arthur sucked in a breath as he splashed the stream’s cold water on his sweaty skin.

He was looking for a person.

And even though his mind and logical reasoning had been overpowered, his soul wanted, needed, _demanded_ to find him.

Arthur had never believed in magic as a child.

But he thought he might now – for how else would his body know what his mind did not?

Arthur turned right at the river bend and found what looked like a crude trail – he knew he needed to follow it. He knew that if he did, someone would capture him, hurt him, put a gun to his head and shoot.

Arthur followed the trail.

It felt like it happened in slow motion, when one of the men grabbed at him from behind, and Arthur didn’t even bother fighting him off, knowing that it would only aggravate him and make him more likely to kill him now instead of take him to the camp, and even though it was against Arthur’s instincts to _go, move, fight_ , he didn’t lash out as someone handcuffed him and another man pulled him along the road roughly, a gun slung over his shoulder, the men speaking to each other in a language Arthur didn’t know.

The camp arrived within the next twenty minutes, after a great deal of shoving and pulling and a gun pointed at Arthur as a man asked him why he was here, what he was doing, but all Arthur could say was “I’m looking for someone”.

It seemed as if more and more threats appeared the further into the campsite they went, and Arthur hoped that for those who traveled here hoping to find refuge north, that he was distracting these men for enough time for them to find safety, for them to reach the Jeep on the side of the road where Arthur had left his keys sitting there, hoping that someone would get the message and take them.

Another picture appeared in Arthur’s mind when one of the men shoved him just hard enough to hurt.

A man with dark hair that curled around his too-large ears, pale skin out of place in the tropical climate, a narrow face and pointed chin, a smile that was always light and teasing and ready, ready for Arthur, and light blue eyes that turned gold when magic –

A deep, scratching voice that called out to the other men to _stop_ , parting them like the Red Sea, and the picture became a reality.

Arthur smiled.

_Merlin._

Merlin smiled back, just on the edge of bursting, as if he couldn’t contain himself. His eyes, blue now, light with wonder and mirth and happiness, as he said “You complete idiot. You could have been killed.”

The bone-aching familiarity set in and Arthur grinned up at him, heart full. "Since when has that ever stopped me?"

* * *

 

They laid side by side on the ground within the confines of a small tent, a tent that belonged to Merlin when he was here, which seemed to be quite often.

“I want to help,” Merlin explained quietly as the two of them stared at the swaying ceiling of the makeshift bedroom. “That’s all I want to do – help those who need it. Make peace instead of war. They’re in negotiations with the government now – I want this place to be peaceful. I hope…I hope it’s not industrialized someday. It’s one of the only places so untouched by civilization. It’s not like home at all, but…somehow, it is.”

“Selfless,” was all Arthur could say, memories of a past life where Merlin had kept all of his power contained within one human body, content to do laundry and clean floors and deliver food and say _that’s not why I do it_ and _I was born to serve you_.

“Not really,” Merlin said. “Just…a purpose. Something to make the world a better place, something to make myself good – for all of the times when…when I wasn’t. Or I couldn’t.”

“You are good,” Arthur turned his head just slightly to see Merlin’s profile, just barely in the setting sun, his smile sad and lonely and he had spent a millennia waiting, waiting for Arthur to find him.

Arthur turned fully so that Merlin noticed, and put his hand on top of Merlin’s. “Just because you’ve made mistakes doesn’t make you a bad person. I…I don’t know much, but I know you. I know you…you don’t want to see anyone suffer. You take no pleasure in pain. That’s what makes you different. That’s what makes you…”

 _The one I looked for,_ Arthur thought, and he could almost hear Merlin think _the one I waited for._

“I knew you were out there,” Merlin said quietly after a moment. “I was there when you were born, in the hospital. But I…I wanted you to live an ordinary life. You’re the Once and Future King, but…you deserve to choose if you want the Future title, not have it given to you.”

Arthur smiled sadly. “Neither of us have ever been given much of a choice, Merlin. Except – you chose to wait for me.”

“That wasn’t a choice either,” Merlin said, even though Arthur knew it was, knew Merlin could’ve stopped, halted, let him go – but he hadn’t. He had a millennia worth of memories of pain and violence and death but he had waited for Arthur, as kind and as patient as he had been before.

“We should leave in the morning,” Merlin said quietly. “My work here…my work here can be done. If what you’re saying is true, about needing to find me…I’m sure that there is a greater danger coming.”

“Or I just needed to find you,” Arthur said after a moment’s silence, not daring to stop himself, “to be with you. Because….nothing matters if…if we’re not together.”

Merlin’s smile was bright, adoring, yet somehow still sad, like Arthur was precious and fragile and might disintegrate to sand in Merlin’s hands. Merlin took a tighter hold of Arthur’s hand as if to prove that he wouldn’t let it happen.

“You’re so young,” Merlin said quietly, reaching forward to tuck Arthur’s hair behind his ear. “I never saw you this young, last time.”

“I never saw you this old,” Arthur touched the slight stubble on Merlin’s chin. “Well, I suppose in your disguises, you were an old man – but you look near thirty. That’s how old I was when I –”

Arthur cut himself off as Merlin’s face transformed in front of him, melting years away until Merlin looked exactly the same as the day Arthur met him in the marketplace an eternity ago.

Except for his eyes – he could never lose the millennia in his eyes.

Arthur kissed him for the first time in that tent, unsure of his future, of the world, of the dangers coming their way, only knowing that Merlin would soften every blow he faced, that he would ease Arthur’s pain, that they could live a life together of true equals, whole within themselves and within each other.

The itching stopped – Arthur knew he was where he was meant to be.


End file.
